Vocation by the River

I.
O thoughtless mind,
spit forth declarations from your limp, worn-out neurons,
and tales of imaginary lands where vapor seeps out of pores in the streets, remnants of a prolonged combustion,
coal-fired trains powered by mechanical shovellers.
Massage the data out of the Temporal Cock,
the number of possibilities varies
depending on how Blitzkreiged you feel & understand (then say) yourself to be.

My lips wrapped around
your cock
in mouth
fingers in hair.

If & Only If every vibration of this Space directly correlates (in equilibrium »» no energy is ever lost, only converted) to a vibration in the Spiritual Realm,

II.
O God, then the duality, bipolar magnetism is comical!
What is all this—
do we attribute more to “the gods”? more to the gods we think we are? -delusions, absurd, always regressing to randomness, or divine-orderly-structured
serving our(selves or gods).
We can never know truth, even if we think we can, truth is relative to what we feel & understand (then say) it to be, circular patterns,
discriminations tick marking an expanding Universe,
Conquer the Universe and so yourself,
The River of Contradictions flows freely in our Egos’ bodies.

III.
O thoughtless, the ghost inside corporal suit,
a layer of concentrated absolute bliss fed through feeding tubes,
concatenated to Universe,
Her golden power is the Source,
the suit’s disposition secondary to Desire of Spirit.
Breathed in, the cup was filled.
It took one breath.
I was once a fetal parasite, cells multiplying, whose choice was it?
My cells keep multiplying uncontrollably,
creating skin & blood,
the systems’ Thoughtless Mind
reaps creation & destruction,
(Is it my choice?)
symbolic knowledge in the nucleus of all cells
and braided into expanding, flattening universe.
Inside the tiniest building blocks,
chaos can be seen,
within them, recorded lightyears of rock & ash,
absent from the night time sky.
One reaction sets off a chain reaction,
birthing ambient pain we feel trapped in,
frozen in space & time,
clogging feeding tubes with hatred,
reactionary sadness, excuses
always caused by something else,
twisted around the key to existence
yet septillions of units away,
projections larger on the screen than
What Truly Is.

IIII.
O Reckless Desire to change it all,
but it’s hard to blame you
for doing what you knew was Right.
Investigate morality and see everything I once couldn’t see,
wonder if right now, looking back in However Long,
had I changed my mind or life?...
The Mind changed our choices,
The Bipolar sickness-magnet is absurd,
what is all this-
our consciousness expanding and smearing over
Earth, as bread, spread thin,
another layer crusted onto bloodstained panties,
peeling back the skin,
in the Bird’s Eye View, I see.
How trivial it was back then!
(What will I think in 50 years?)
All the strips of my different selves sliced long and thin,
bound together absolutely,
My cunt wants that throbbing violet vegetable.
My soul wants the world.
Detail-oriented, a papery glass doily,
tap on the ice and fall through to freezing water.
Or,
Eternal essence as forceful as an imaginary brick wall,
sucking faster than the Ideal Vacuum.

V.
O thoughtless universal mind, your choruses of sirens that have eternally demanded the question & quest that follows it:
Fear of rejection old enough to buy cigarettes in state of Indiana,
Tragedy, we cannot communicate via inaudible language like cats,
“I know the next thing I’m excited for,” says I, “& it ain’t now.”
An aura of fire asphyxiating me,
need out of this shell,
mind full of theories,
body a bag of sand,
soul exhausted,
clean hands.

February-March 2009